


soften the blow

by anthonydarling



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, the author may be projecting onto peter, your guess as to when this takes place is as good as mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonydarling/pseuds/anthonydarling
Summary: "No, it might be your best, but you can do better. There's always room to do better," Peter gritted out.He agreed, but he arched an eyebrow anyways, critical. Peter did well when Tony was critical, when he challenged him to think. He always wanted to be better. Tony understood that, but, "that's a hard way to live."Peter shrugged. "It's an okay way to die, though, if you have to."
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	soften the blow

"Does it ever get any easier?" Peter's voice was strained and he was as tense as ever, drawn to his full height and vibrating with energy. The dwindling fire from the building reflected in his watery eyes. "Does it hurt this much every time?"

Tony almost said no. He wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him it got easier, that eventually the lives he wouldn't be able to save would stop weighing so heavily on his shoulders. But he knew that that was just another way of saying that this job would chip away at his soul and leave him hollow and heartless, and he knew that Peter would never be able to lose himself like that. He'd sell his soul, yes, but he'd take his body with it and shatter himself on the pavement in front of a thousand burning buildings before he let his heart die with it.

 _That would shatter his heart, too,_ Tony thought, but the boy was too damn kind to not just pick it up and put it back in his chest. He would leave his blood and tears and dreams on the pavement, there are different kinds of bleeding, and he was bleeding all over the place in front of Tony now, with his fists clenched and eyes watery and jaw tight as he watched the last of the ambulances drive away, as the firefighters began the process of pulling out those who hadn't survived.

"No," Tony said, soft. "No, it never gets any easier."

Peter nodded once, somehow harsh with the gesture, or satisfied. Tony forced himself not to flinch at the spark of rage in his eyes.

He'd heard people say that you can't have kindness without rage, or rage without kindness. Killing with kindness is still killing.

"Good," Peter's voice wavered, "good. I don't think I'd- I'd stay myself if it ever did stop hurting, but." He shook his head and took a step forward, curled his shaking hands around the building railing. "it still... hurts," he said, and it was such a small word, hurt, but Tony understood what he meant. He felt that hurt every damn day, aching in his bones and curled hot and ugly in what remained of his sternum. He hated that Peter was taking that weight, too.

"Yeah, I know," Tony said, "but you can learn to carry it in a way that doesn't hurt quite as much. You can learn how to soften the blow."

"As long as it doesn't leave. As long as I still take it seriously, I, I can't ever lose it. I can't-"

"You won't." Tony laid a careful hand on Peter's forearm. He didn't shift to or away from him, but Tony kept it there. Touch was good. Grounding. Peter was beginning to lose his footing. "The fact that you're scared is proof of it."

"How can you be sure?" He asked, his voice small. "How do you know?"

"Because I've never met someone in the field that's as loving as you are, kiddo," Tony sighed. "Because a lot of us just say that we save who we can and if we don't save everyone, we did our best."

"No." Peter finally looked at him, his eyes sharp and focused and full of a passion that Tony was vaguely aware that maybe he should be afraid of. People as set in their beliefs as Peter was could be dangerous. They tended to act without consulting others, tended to push and pull and leave you for dead in a bunker in Siberia, but Tony didn't have it in him to be afraid of Peter. Steve had never had his heart, or his unconditional love, or his desperate empathy that seemed to fill his lungs and his throat until he shook and bled all over the sidewalk. He always left himself to bleed out on the sidewalk like a fucking sacrificial lamb, like he had something to make up for, like he wasn't the best person that Tony would ever have the honor of meeting.

"No, it might be your best, but you can do better. There's always room to do better," Peter gritted out, and, yeah, shit, Steve wouldn't say that but he could hear the same terrifying certainty in Peter's voice. At least Tony didn't see much of himself in his eyes. That would be fucking tragic.

He agreed, but he arched an eyebrow anyways, critical. Peter did well when Tony was critical, when he challenged him to think. He always wanted to be better. Tony understood that, but, "that's a hard way to live."

Peter shrugged. "It's an okay way to die, though, if you have to."

Tony wondered, idly, if Peter knew that this pain he was in was caused by grief. He was grieving, every single day. That was the downside of loving everything and having so much faith in the world; that faith would be broken and that love can't fix what doesn't want to be fixed, Peter bleeds love and it drips from his fingers and runs in rivulets into the gutters, and that turned to grief, and that grief didn't have an outlet, so it turned to anger. Tony wondered if Peter knew how angry he was. It seemed to live in his bones. He wondered if he let himself know.

Either way, he had an outlet for it. He protected people with his precious life and he fought until he couldn't stand, he smiled with all his teeth and laughed loudly, he loved more fiercely than he fought and he dared the world to throw him something that he couldn't handle with the strength he'd been given and the strength he'd been raised to have. Tony didn't think that there was anything he couldn't defeat.

He'd do anything to protect this world. He'd die for it, and he'd do it with a smile.

"It's not time for you to go, kid," Tony said quietly.

A grim sort of smile ghosted over Peter's lips. "No, there's too much to get done around here."


End file.
